


Picking Up Strays

by mcschnuggles



Series: Schnugg's Regressuary 2021 [13]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Hospital, CGRE - Caregiver/Age Regressor, Caregiver!Sojiro, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Regressing!Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcschnuggles/pseuds/mcschnuggles
Summary: A late-night car crash leaves Akira hospitalized.
Relationships: Kurusu Akira & Sakura Sojiro
Series: Schnugg's Regressuary 2021 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138382
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41
Collections: Regressuary, Regressuary 2021





	Picking Up Strays

The call comes in at ten o’clock at night.

A head-on collision between two cars on the highway, caused by the low visibility from the oncoming rainstorm. Three in one car, all injured, and one in the other, who died on impact.

Sojiro is more than accustomed to this sort of bad news and so is his coworker, Takemi, but when she finds him in a cold, clinical hallway, he knows something is wrong. Her heels clack down the empty halls, signaling her approach as if she were the reaper herself. Her face is pinched as she approaches him.

“This about the car crash victims?” Sojiro asks.

Takemi nods. “I’m enlisting your help for the kid.”

Sojiro’s eyes widen. He hadn’t been told that part. “One of them is a kid?”

Takemi sighs. “Family of three, the kid is sixteen. He was in the backseat when the crash happened, so he wasn’t hurt as badly as his parents were.”

“What kind of injuries are we talking?”

“Minor injuries to the head and a broken leg,” Takemi explains. “He hasn’t regained consciousness since we brought him in, but he’s been stirring for a while. He should be awake any minute now.”

“And you want me to go talk to him?” Sojiro asks.

“Yeah, well…” Takemi trails off. “Someone needs to tell them we just wheeled his parents’ corpses down to the morgue.”

There it is. Sojiro’s more than used to having to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s never been asked as much by Takemi. There has to be some catch to this.

Takemi falters under his scrutiny. “You have a kid his age, right?”

That’s half an explanation, but it’s not like he’s the only person in the hospital with a kid. “So does Iwai.”

“Iwai is busy with other patients. Besides, you mentioned your daughter has had some… difficulties.”

“Tread lightly,” Sojiro warns, because although he trusts Takemi, too many people have said rude or presumptuous things about Futaba for him to be wary regardless.

“We found a couple of… oddities on his person,” Takemi explains. “A stuffed toy and some pacifiers. I know that Futaba needed special accommodations for her agoraphobia and anxiety and thought you might be the best fit.”

He doesn’t really have a choice, does he? It’s not like he can say no. “What room is he in?”

“115.” Takemi pats his shoulder, which is just as awkward for him as it is for her. She’s never been the touchy-feely type and neither has he, so the most personal contact they’ve had is accidentally bumping into each other when the halls are crowded. She hands him a handful of papers. “Here’s his file. You might wanna read up on it. And thank you.”

* * *

Akira is awake by the time Sojiro gets to his room.

The boy in the hospital bed is no older than sixteen, but the exhaustion in his face makes him look that much younger. The lens of his glasses is cracked in one eye, and the hoodie he’s wearing looks just a size too big. His left leg is in a cast.

His eyes are on Sojiro the second he walks through the door. There’s something about his expression—the soft, passive, wariness—that sets of alarm bells in Sojiro’s head, but he ignores it for the time being. He doesn’t have the time or the means to adopt another stray.

“Uh, hey there.” Sojiro fights back a sigh. Was that really the best he could do? “My name is Sojiro Sakura. Good to see you’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” Akira speaks softly, so soft that it’s hard to make out exactly what he’s saying.

“A few hours at most. Do you mind if we do a couple tests?” Sojiro has a running checklist in his head. Check for a concussion, check for pain, and check to see if this kid might need special accommodations with his future caseworker.

“Go ahead.”

“How’s the leg?”

“Fine.”

“Good.” So the kid’s not exactly chatty. Sojiro clocked Akira as a quiet type from the second he walked in. He shines a light in each of Akira’s eyes, checking their dilation. “Well, no signs of a concussion. That’s always good. Are you feeling dizzy at all?”

“No, sir.” His eyes keep fluttering shut, like he’s bound to doze off again. Even if he’s cleared for a concussion, that doesn’t seem like too great of a sign.

“That’s good. Try not to fall asleep, okay? At least not until the doc can give you the all clear.”

Akira nods, but it’s clear from the distance in his gaze that his mind has already moved elsewhere. “Sakura-san?”

“Yes?”

Something unreadable passes over Akira’s face. “How are my parents?”

Sojiro winces. He didn’t think this would come up so quickly. “Actually…”

God, he wishes he and Iwai could trade places right now. Sure, Sojiro had experience with Futaba, but he’d never had to give her bad news like this.

“They’re dead,” Akira guesses. There’s strain in his face, but no part of him looks surprised at this development. Futaba used to have that same look, back when she was stuffing all the pain she’d endured deep down and pretending she was fine.

Sojiro’s lips press into a grim line, all but confirming it. But what was he supposed to do? Lie to the kid’s face?

“I saw my mom’s head snap back,” Akira says quietly. “Before I blacked out. I had a guess.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” What else is he supposed to say at a time like this? Not to mention they still had something rather pressing on the table. “Akira, I need to ask you something, and it’s important you answer honestly.”

Akira goes stock still at those words, his fists bunching up the thin blanket over his lap like he’s bracing for the worst.

“We found a couple items on the scene with you, a teddy bear and some pacifiers.”

Something twitches in Akira’s expression, and while he hasn’t shown any signs of aggression so far, Sojiro isn’t going to risk it.

“Now, now. No need to get worked up. I know this is a lot right now, but we need to know if you had special accommodations in school, maybe? This will affect your casework.”

Akira flinches at the word “casework.” Considering the heavy news he just got, he probably wasn’t thinking far enough ahead to consider going into the foster system.

Sojiro’s face softens. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot all at once.”

“It’s just a comfort thing,” Akira answers. He won’t look Sojiro in the eyes. “It’s called age regression. Sometimes I feel stressed and just want to go back to being a kid. That stuff wouldn’t have been in my bag at all, but I have a friend who doesn’t mind staying with me when I’m like that. My parents were picking me up from his house. I was staying for the weekend.”

Sojiro straightens up. Not the answer he was expecting, but that just means a little less paperwork for them to fill out. “I see. Well, then, I’ll pass the word along to my associates to pretend like we didn’t see anything.”

“Thank you.” The relief only makes Akira look that much more exhausted.

“Try to rest up.” Sojiro pats his knee. “I’ll be back in later to check your vitals and give you another dose of painkillers.”

“Do you happen to know where they took my bag?” Akira asks. His voice is even softer than before, so much so that the only word Sojiro is sure about is “bag.”

“Is this it?” Sojiro retrieves a black bag wedged halfway under the bed. He tries not to roll his eyes. Did no one think to put it within reach of the patient?

“Yes—uh, thank you.” Akira tentatively takes the bag into his arms, too embarrassed to remove the contents in front of Sojiro.

Sojiro can crack a smile at that. Typical teenager, embarrassed about everything. “I’ll leave you be.”

He adjusts the privacy curtain, making sure Akira will have some warning if someone else walks in.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Press the call button if you need anything.”

* * *

Akira doesn’t press the call button, not that that’s surprising.

On top of being a quiet kid, he acts like a kid who tries his best to be out of the way. Even if he was hurting, Sojiro doubts he’d call in a nurse, so he just has to hope that the silence from Room 115 means that Akira is doing fine.

He catches Takemi up on everything, making sure to stress that Akira wants any report of his “personal items” taken off the records.

“How’s he doing otherwise?” Takemi asks.

“No visible signs of a concussion or outstanding pain.”

“And how did he take the news of his parents?”

“Barely. Kid’s got a poker face with the best of ’em.”

Takemi hums. It’s not her job to ask about her patients’ emotional wellbeing, but Sojiro has always known she has a big heart.

“I’ll drop by later tonight to give him a once-over,” she says finally, her face unreadable. “Just make sure he’s okay in the meantime.”

“That’s the plan.”

* * *

Akira is right where Sojiro left him, slightly more slumped over the pillows but still very much awake. He must’ve had the courage to take his bear out at some point, because it sits comfortably in his arms.

“Sakura-san.” Akira sits up a little straighter, realizing a second later he doesn’t have to hide the teddy bear in his arms. Still, his face burns. “Sorry.”

Sojiro waves off his apologies. “How’s your leg?”

“Fine.”

“And your head?”

“I’ve got a major headache.”

Sojiro snorts. “Well, aren’t you funny. You must be feeling better if you can make jokes.”

Akira gives a half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It gives Sojiro pause, wondering if this is the point where everything comes to a head. A teenager can only keep things bottled up for so long, and now that Akira has had a few hours to process everything, it’s only a matter of time.

Ignoring the pain in his knees, Sojiro lowers himself into a crouch, bracing himself by Akira’s bedside. “How are you holding up?”

Despite his calm bravado, Akira’s lower lip quivers. “Bad.”

“I know, kiddo.” Before he can think better of it, Sojiro stands and pulls Akira into a hug.

Akira clings like he’s never been hugged before, like he’s so desperate for affection that he’ll latch onto the nearest adult that offers it.

Futaba used to be the same way, back when she’d just started living with him and rarely left her room. She’d cling to every hug, scared that each one would be the last before the switch was flipped and Sojiro started acting like her uncle.

“What’s gonna happen?” Akira asks, his voice muffled against Sojiro’s shoulder.

Sojiro has seen enough of his file to know it’ll be a hard placement. The only child of two only children, he’ll be lucky if he has grandparents able and willing to take him in.

“I don’t know, kid,” Sojiro answers. “But I promise it’s all gonna be okay.”

“Thank you.” There’s something in his voice, something that sounds smaller and younger, that catches Sojiro’s attention.

“Hey, if you need a few minutes to… regress?” He phrases it like a question, acting like he didn’t spend his only break time figuring out his phone’s browser just so he could squeeze in some research on age regression.

“I…”

“Even if you just need someone to watch the door. That’s fine.” Sojiro tries to pull back, but Akira doesn’t let go.

“Don’t go,” he whimpers, sounding so broken that Sojiro has half a mind to adopt the kid himself.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but Akira has enough time to dissolve into tears at least twice and put himself back together for each. Honestly, that’s the part that breaks Sojiro’s heart the most, that a poor, sixteen-year-old kid who just lost both his parents has to feel like he needs to get his act together.

The only warning they get that Takemi is coming is a single knock.

“Hope I’m not intruding,” Takemi says. Despite her natural confidence, she hangs by the door.

Akira untangles himself from Sojiro’s arms and rubs sullenly at his eyes.

“Looks like you’re gonna be stuck with us for a while,” she continues, unbothered by the silence. “We need to have you under observation for the head injuries, but you should be able to move around on crutches soon. We will hold back on PT for the time being, though. Sound good?”

Akira nods, glancing between Sojiro and Takemi for reassurance.

“I have a couple of coworkers who bring in books,” Takemi tells him. “I’m sure they’d be willing to loan you a few while you recover.”

Sojiro smirks. What she isn’t saying is that she’s one of them. Even if she never has time to read, she likes to have one just in case. She’s been “reading” the same paperback in the five years she and Sojiro have worked together.

“That would be nice.” Akira speaks, his voice stilted.

“Excellent. Your caseworker should be dropping by sometime tomorrow, but we can worry about that in the morning. Sojiro?” She nods out toward the hallway, giving him no choice but to follow.

He casts a glance back at Akira, who has the bear back in his arms and is pointedly not making eye contact. Might be good to give the kid some space after all that.

“I know that look in your eye,” Takemi says.

“I’m already a foster father,” Sojiro points out. “It wouldn’t be hard to get approved.”

“I know, I just—” Takemi stops to snort. Sojiro realizes now that he’s played right into her hands. “I thought it would take more than a single night for you to get attached.”

**Author's Note:**

> mcschnuggles.tumblr.com


End file.
